


Wrung Out

by PurpleArrowzandLeather



Series: Case Files [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Son of Batman (2014), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Hurt Jason Todd, Hurt/Comfort, a few broken bones, a little blood, not too terribly gory though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 19:16:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17855447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleArrowzandLeather/pseuds/PurpleArrowzandLeather
Summary: Jim Gordon finds a body in the street on his way into Crime Alley and it isn't what he thinks. The Batman gets a call that he doesn't expect and emotions ensue.





	Wrung Out

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, guys! I'm back. Once again, no ownership of the DC comics here. Just a little well-deserved love and care from our resident brick wall. Enjoy! :)

          It's been a long time since Jim Gordon ever saw anything he deemed extraordinary. Not much surprises him anymore. The only thing that does - that probably shouldn’t - is the ever-increasing amount of young vigilantes in Batman’s wake. 

          Still, he goes out on patrol all the same, since they can’t stop everything. Even as good as they are.  

          His patrol today has led him down a dark street, his headlights flashing over the shadows of rusty cars and debris-filled gutters. He’s fairly close to Crime Alley if he’s remembering his maps correctly. Not that he needs them. He should be immersing himself in to the Red Hood’s territory in no time at all. In fact, the darkness seems to multiply exponentially as soon as he passes the crossroads. It’s a bit chilling, if he’s being honest with himself. What’s even more gut-wrenching is the sight of a body in the street not three blocks in. Rain starts to patter on his windshield as he nears. 

          He pulls to a stop, letting his headlights shine on the still figure still twenty yards ahead. Jim doesn’t want to consider if he’s dead or not. He gets out of his car, standing at the front fender with his hand on his gun. It’d be just like a crook in Crime Alley to try something like this. 

          That line of thought is cut off when he hears breaths wheezing out of the man. His leather jacket is torn up, one arm pinned awkwardly underneath him and the other hanging around his front protectively. Jim steps closer, trying to push past the trepidation in his gut to help him. It’s only after he gets within ten feet does he spot the thick-soled combat boots and scraped shin guards. It’s a vigilante, and a familiar one. 

          Gordon moves. His feet carry him around the man’s front and he crouches down in front of the man’s shaking frame. The helmet that wasn’t previously visible is clear as day now. The face is cracked away around one of his eyes and Jim can see that his nose is bleeding. He lifts a careful hand to the Red Hood’s side to wake him up and is horrified when his gloved fingers come back bloody. The Hood tenses, his eye snapping open as he continues to shake.  

          There’s something about his gaze that seems more than familiar to Jim.  

          He tries to get up, choking back a scream as he finds that his leg is broken. Jim tries to ignore the agonized sound that leaves him. He really does. Feeling empathy for a killer is the last thing he ever thought he would do, but the Hood is different. He always has been, and despite Jim’s better judgement, he likes the man. His version of justice is rougher, like the streets themselves. Batman’s mind is too black and white, even for Gordon’s taste. This is Gotham after all.  

          “Ya’ gonna ‘rest me, C-commish?” he manages.  

          Jim shakes his head. “As much as I threaten to, I think you and I both know I never would.” 

          Red Hood coughs, dragging in a breath that is likely just as painful as it sounds. “Don’ s’pose I could… bother ya’ to call dad?” 

          Gordon’s brow furrows. He has always known that Batman and the Red Hood were very closely connected, but he’s never guessed just how close. “Batman? You want me to call him?” 

          He stills, as if remembering that the information probably wasn’t any piece that he had meant to give away. “Right.” 

          Jim nods, worried for the young man. “Yeah. I don’t think anyone has seen you yet since no one in their right mind would walk this street. That’s good news for you, right? Well, depending on how long you’ve been here. Still better than being picked up by the police, I guess.” 

          “In the…” he pauses, catching his breath as a particularly rough wheeze catches in his chest. “… unlikely event th- that I survive this, yes.” 

          Jim dials Batman, settling down on his knees next to the kid. He only just now realized how young the Red Hood sounds. The phone rings twice before Batman picks up. 

          “ _I’m in the middle of something. This had better be important._ ” 

          Jim waits for the Hood to stop coughing before he speaks. “It’s important.” 

          “ _Jim? Tell me that coughing isn’t you._ ” 

          “It’s not, but you aren’t going to like who it does belong to.” 

          “ _Who?_ ” 

          “It’s the Red Hood. I just found him in the street. He asked me to call you. I hate to tell you this, Batman, but it isn’t looking good for him. You’ll need to get here fast if you want to save him.” 

          “ _Keep him conscious. I’m on my way._ ” 

          “I thought you were-“ 

          “ _It doesn’t matter. I’m tracing your phone now. Just keep him alive._ ” 

          Jim holds back a smile, his mustache twitching. “I’ll do what I can.” 

          He looks down at the Hood, carefully cataloging his injuries. The kid lets him, closing his eye for a few seconds to focus on breathing. Jim waves a flashlight in his eye after he opens it again and figures on a pretty nasty concussion. He can’t help but wonder what happened to him, but he doubts that the Red Hood of all people will be very interested in sharing. He’s fighting, and that’s all that matters for now. 

          He’ll get Batman to fill him in after this whole mess is sorted out. The young man he’s looking at doesn’t have the eyes of a cold-blooded murderer, and he supposes that it helps. It occurs to him that if the Hood isn’t wearing his helmet, he usually has a domino on underneath. This time appears to be an exception.  

          “It’s gonna be okay, kid.” 

          He laughs, coughing shakily when he finds that he can’t manage a full breath afterwards. The eye Gordon can see squeezes shut as his face scrunches with pain. He’d be willing to bet that the boy is breathing through clenched teeth. Living out of spite. 

          “Don’t worry.”  

          “Spare me... reassurances, Doctor Gordon.” 

          Jim is about to scold him for his attitude when his broken leg moves and he sucks in a sharp breath to keep from screaming. He looks him over again, this time spotting blood dripping from the hand draped over his ribs.  

          “Is your arm hurt or are you protecting your rib cage?” 

          “Both.” He grits out. 

          Gordon swipes a hand over his face, pulling off his trench coat and laying it over the Red Hood. “What even happened to you?” 

          “Got hit by a bus.” 

          Jim glares. “Don’t lie to me. I know claw marks when I see them.” 

          He grimaces, taking in shaky breaths through his nose. “Got into a rough fight with… Killer Croc n’ a coupl’other Rogues.” 

          Gordon nods, shifting around to block the rain from his face with his own form. “Now that, I believe. Do they know how bad off you are or did you make a daring escape only to end up here after a misstep?” 

          “…’scaped like this. Got… got far as I could.” 

          “You couldn’t call for help or anything? No comms?” 

          He shakes his head once, shivering now. Water drips onto his face and he flinches, his whole body tensing at the action. He grumbles under his breath, barely loud enough for Gordon to catch. “-cking hate rain.” 

          “Language, kid.” 

          “Ugh. You aren’t my mother. Only B gets after me… mostly. An' Agent A.” 

          Jim chuckles, lightly patting the side of the helmet for the kid’s ability to try and make light of a bad situation. “Well, you just listen here, kid. You’re gonna fight until your dad gets here and then you’re gonna get better, all right? Much as it pains me to say it, this city needs you.” 

          He chokes back a whimper, settling for a groan instead. “I know that.” 

          “I mean it, kid. May not care much for the way you go about it, but it’s definitely an improvement, even if you have to be a mob boss to do it.” Jim says softly. “We need people who are willing to get justice for those who never see the light in this city. You may make yourself out to be a bit of an anti-hero, but I’ll tell you one thing right now. The good people who live here? The ones who have no other choice? To them, you’re a hero. That’s why you’ve gotta survive this. Keep breathing, kid.” 

          The Hood grimaces. “Ya gotta be kidn’me. I feel like m’ bein’ coached through a…” He breaks off, coughing up a little blood if the extra spatter by his eye is anything to go by. “… a birthing class.” 

          Jim chuckles. “You are somethin’ else, you know that?” 

          “Jus’ special.” He murmurs, his gaze wavering. 

          Jim doesn’t dare shake him, but he does knock on the helmet a couple of times.  

          “M’ up…up. Promise.” 

          Jim keeps talking to him for the next couple minutes until he hears the whir of the Batmobile. A sigh of relief leaves Jim just as a something that sounds like a sob of the same variety escapes the Red Hood. Not once had he made a sound like that beforehand, and it breaks Jim’s heart a little to know that the Red Hood, of all people, had been scared. He's always seemed so strong. The Batmobile rolls around the corner and Batman jumps out, running over and crouching next to the boy.  

          “Status.” 

          The Red Hood sucks in a breath, his voice rough as he responds. “Concussion. Right shoulder dislocated.... Lacerations left arm, ribs, and... and abdomen. Broken nose, two ribs, and my leg.” 

          He looks to Gordon. “Is he stable?” 

          “He’s still shaking, and I think it’s more shock than the rain. He’s holding on, and that’s all I can say.“ He glances down at the Hood. “It’s like you said, kid. I’m no doctor.” 

          Batman puts something on the ground and asks Gordon to take a step back. It expands under the Red Hood and Jim is impressed to note that it forms a solid slab underneath him. He helps Batman slide him into the passenger side of the car, the seat laid down perfectly flat for just such an event and his head towards the dash. Jim barely has a chance to tell Batman to take care of him before he’s speeding off.  

          Jason grimaces as the restraints form around him, keeping him from moving throughout the ride no matter how quickly Bruce whips a corner. He’s never liked them despite the fact that they don't exert any pressure on him at all. It also doesn’t help that he’s still lying on his dislocated shoulder.  

          “Just hold on, kiddo. We’ll get you home.” 

          “I know.” 

          Bruce accelerates and speeds through the city, flying into secret passage number... whatever. Jason doesn’t know. He’s too busy spitting out blood to be for sure.

          “Can you get your helmet off?” 

          Jason nods, shifting his arm from his side with a wince. Bruce places a steadying hand on his shoulder as he takes another corner faster than the last, pushing his arm gently back down and pulling the release for the helmet himself. Jason sighs in relief as it rolls into the footwell, letting his head rest on the cool metal of the collapsible gurney beneath him. His hair is sweaty and his breath puffs out shallowly. Bruce follows the easy path to the cave, snagging his glove between his teeth and dropping it in his lap. He presses his hand to Jason’s forehead, carding a hand through his sweaty curls. 

          Jason coughs, leaning into his hand weakly. Bruce quiets him as he shifts, jostling his injured frame. He glances down at his face just before skidding to a stop in the Batcave. Alfred is already waiting with Leslie at his side, and Bruce would be willing to bet the infirmary is stocked and ready to go. Dick, Tim and Damian are standing near the infirmary door, having come in from patrol when Bruce sent out the alert.  

          “Okay, kiddo. Just hold on, all right? Alfred and Leslie are both here and they’ll get you fixed up.” 

          “Jus’ another fight, Bruce. I can... I can win a fight.” he murmurs, another relieved sigh leaving him as the restraints release.  

          Bruce jumps out, gesturing to his other three boys to lend a hand. They get him up on a rolling table and wheel him over to Alfred and Leslie. Alfred gets him rolled over while Leslie keeps his leg as still as possible.  

          “We’ve gotta get this set.” she says. “Your advanced healing from the Pit is going to cause us trouble tonight. No painkillers, you got that, Jason?” 

          Jason hums out a breath, nodding towards Leslie for the go ahead. Bruce watches from the doorway, his other three boys standing inside the room. He tries not to jump at the sickening crack that follows, but is unsuccessful. The sound Jason makes in response is gut-wrenching and Bruce has to look away. He bucks on the table, a whimper drawing from his throat. The action throws him into a coughing fit.  

          Once he’s calmed down, Alfred steadies him so Leslie can stabilize his leg, It takes a few minutes, but they do get it done. His dislocated shoulder comes next and then broken nose. His ribs and claw scores come next. It's a bloody scene, soon wrapped up in white bandages and the smell of diluted rubbing alcohol.

          For Leslie and Alfred’s part, they stay perfectly collected until after everything is all said and done. Leslie goes outside for some air and Alfred retreats to the manor to make some tea. Dick and Tim visit with Jason while Damian stands nearby looking a little pale. Their conversation doesn’t last long and they walk out past Bruce.  

          Bruce manages to force himself into the room. He’s never been frozen to the spot like he was tonight. Bruce knows he wouldn’t have been any help if he was needed.  

          “Bruce, I know you’re… know you’re over there.” He says, sucking in a breath with the help of the cannula now hooked up to him. “Hover if you’re gonna, but at leas’ do it where I don’ have to turn my head t’ see you.” 

          Bruce approaches where he’s resting now in a bed. His head is propped up on a couple pillows and his face is clean. “How’re you feelin’, kiddo?” 

          He lifts his hands a little, wincing as the long cuts on his left arm pull. “Sucktastic.” 

          Bruce places a hand on Jason’s forehead, that jolt he felt when Jason’s leg snapped back into place belatedly making him feel a little queasy. “It’s okay.” 

          Jason looks up, the glassy look in Bruce’s eyes giving him a moment’s pause. “B, don’t cry.” 

          He’s struggling to stop himself, that much Jason can tell. He runs a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, kiddo. I’m sorry.” 

          “What for?” 

          "Those rogues escaped, and we didn't know." Bruce takes in a shuddery breath, closing his eyes for a second before changing the subject. “How long were you in the street before Jim found you?” 

          It dawns on Jason right as he answers as to what Bruce is getting at. “Twenty minutes, maybe? I think I was unconscious for a bit.” 

          That doesn’t help Bruce’s calm. “Twenty minutes is a long time, Jason. Anyone who passed by could have called for help, but they didn’t. They _didn’t_ , and it could have cost you your life.” 

          Bruce’s tone is soft, but it’s the tremor in his voice that gives him away. He lightly strokes Jason's hair, looking more weary and worn out and worried than Jason has ever seen him.

          “ _Dad._ ” 

          “I know we don’t see eye to eye most times, but Jason… I can’t lose you again, kiddo.  _I can't._ ” 

          Jason leans into the hand Bruce still has in his hair. “It’s okay, B. I’m still right here.” 

          “I know.” Bruce answers, the words fluttery. “I know, Jason.” 

          Jason smiles, the look a little pained. Bruce won’t stop saying his name or calling him kiddo and it’s making Jason a bit emotional too. “You stop that. Stop that, you’re gonna make me cry.” 

          Bruce shakes his head, a few tears slipping out for Jason to see before they’re wiped away. He leans down to press a paternal kiss to the top of Jason’s head. Jason grips his wrist, leaning the side of his face against Bruce’s arm.  

          Bruce wraps his free arm around Jason's shoulders, resting his head on top of Jason’s for a long while. Jason’s controls his breathing so it isn’t so obvious that he’s crying, but Bruce knows. Jason was scared too. It’s there in the way his breaths shake on the way out. The way hot tears slide down Bruce’s arm after they leave Jason’s face. 

          “It’s okay to be scared, kiddo.” 

          Jason nods, squeezing his eyes shut. Bruce quiets him, just staying near his son for a long while.  

          “ _I love you, Jason. I love you, son._ ” 

          Jason lets out a choked sob, his fingers still holding onto Bruce’s wrist as tightly as they can. “ _I love you_ _too, dad._ ” he whispers. Jason is still for a long time as he reminds himself that everything is okay. Taking in a shaky breath, Bruce figures that he's about to try to lighten the mood to help himself calm. “I-I mean, all these tears gotta be worth somethin’, right?” 

          Bruce kisses the top of Jason’s hair again, smiling despite the dried sweat. That's the last thing on his mind. “Right.” 

**Author's Note:**

> All the medical stuff is probably so far off. I ain't no doctor, either, Jim.


End file.
